He's Misunderstood, That Makes Two of Us
by I heart the Hitachiin twins
Summary: A lonely prodigy and a feared pirate fox, what do they have in common? They're misunderstood. I'm Scarlett and this is the story of my short life, tragic death and rather eventful afterlife. NOT SLASH! Cover art by the extremely talented Windninjabreeze on deviantart.
1. In Pirate Cove

**It is my personal belief that after the bite of 87 Foxy was deactivated, but there is enough of a spark for him to be aware and conscious, didn't do much else though. So how can he run the halls? Read on.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Five Nights at Freddy's**

Children can be inthralled by the same thing for an incredibly long time.

This was the thought that passed through my head as I wandered the bustling halls of Freddy Fasbear's Pizzeria. The familiar riff of an Offspring song rung through my designer headphones, cutting off the clamour of the busy restaurant. I got several odd looks as I headed as far away from the main stage as possible, I knew what those imbeciles were thinking. Why, was an ordinary twelve year old like me withdrawing into loud, angry music like a sullen teenager when there was cheerful entertainment and delicious pizza in the other direction? I snorted in dry amusement at their assumptions because the one thing I have _never_ been accused of being is ordinary. When I was only four I had been described as 'above average intelligence', by age six I was declared a prodigy in the field of phycology and had discovered my uncanny ability to read and manipulate people. Already, three universities were scouting me and one had already offered a scholarship. I hissed in annoyance. Me, go to university? No way.

Needless to say, my maturity levels rose extremely quickly and most things that held so much childhood joy now seemed infantile and even slightly creepy, the Freddy Fasbear crew were one of those things. However, my younger sisters of eight and six still found unbridled joy in the singing machines, so we went often, I have a feeling that my parents hoped it would reawaken the child in me that got crushed under responsibility and intelligence. Little did they know that my inner infant was buried under more than just that, it was also burdened with a thousand insults hurled at a daily basis. Freak, show off, know it all… I'd heard them all, even the ridiculous ones. Stupid (Clearly not, considering they're bulling me for my intelligence.), Vampire girl (What!? Sure I have pale skin and don't like sunlight but that hardly makes me a vampire.), Ugly (Contradictory to the former, considering legends depict vampires as forever young and attractive so I couldn't possibly be both.) and Demon. What about me reminded my tormentors of a demon I wasn't sure but I was certain that they were just reaching for insults now.

I was so absorbed in my thoughts I almost walked into a wall, I only just stopped fast enough. Looking around, I saw there were actually no people around. How… peculiar. I was just outside the main dining room in the west wing, that meant I was right next to… "Pirate cove." My stormy, grey eyes widened as I realised exactly where I was. Just before all this prodigy idiocy started the infamous area and it's red-furred mascot had captured my heart and never let it go. I had a theory that it was my adoration for the abandoned set that had stopped me from fawning over the other three animatronics, they simply didn't compare and even now I miss the gruff voice that used to ring through the halls and act as a security blanket against troubled thoughts that no one my age really should have been thinking.

Curiosity and nostalgia took over in a rare act of childlike emotion and I found myself trying the door. Locked. Well duh… I hung my headphones around my neck and pulled a hair pin from my long blonde tresses and let them fall to my waist. I then got to work, skilfully picking the rusted lock, it swung open and I ventured in. I gasped, the whole place was in a appalling state of disrepair. The velveteen curtains were moth-eaten and slightly mouldy, the stage was rotting and bloodstains still spattered the ground where my idol's sharp teeth had sunk into that security guard's head. I still remembered that day very clearly. I should, considering I caused it.

I had been gleefully watching the show with the other children when I had decided I wanted a closer look. I clambered up the stage on my small four year old feet and made my way over to the animatronic. "You really shouldn't be there." A voice behind me had said, I whirled around to find a security guard watching me. I shrugged and continued, I had talked to Foxy many times and he knew me by name. Face recognition, they said. Somehow I doubted that, although I knew it was scientifically impossible, but Foxy seemed to have more personality than most of the people I knew. He seemed too real to be fake.

The guard yelled "Oi! Are you listening to me?" Naturally, I did what any child would do, I screamed. Despite the traumatic experience, what happens next would cement the idea of Foxy having a personality in my mind for my entire life. As if he heard my call of distress, Foxy lunged forward and clamped his jaws around the unsuspecting man's face, then… Well, I make a point not to think of the details. But I am still firmly in my belief that Foxy was just trying to protect me.

Snapping myself back to reality I realised that time was limited. I pulled back the disgusting curtains to reveal my childhood hero. It made me choke up, how badly damaged he was. Clearly he hadn't been properly maintained. I made a mental note to bring tools next time I came. That, and means to raid the supply closet. I ran my slender fingers through the fur on his chest, it was matted and clogged with fluids I don't care to name but it was still the same as all those years ago.

It hurt to see him like this, I resolved to have him fixed up by Christmas, that was almost four months away. Although people weren't the only things I could manipulate and change and I was a perfectly good mechanic, I knew nothing of the machinery so this was going to be tricky, and oh, did I _love_ a challenge.

I whipped a notebook out of my back pocket and began taking notes on what I could see was wrong, muttering to myself all the while.. The fur and mask were filthy and torn, I may have to sow him a new one. Thankfully, his endoskeleton didn't seem to badly damaged and only needed little tweaks. His hook was getting rusty and would become unfixable if not attended to soon. Very carefully I peeked through the gaping hole in his chest to take a look at his voice box, I sighed in relief at it's good condition. Not perfect, but clearly fixable. I was glad, that voice would have been impossible to replicate without specialised equipment. That was all I could see and I hoped that that was where the damage stopped.

I sighed and pocketed the notebook again. How I was going to sneak the tools needed into the restaurant I had no idea but I would manage. I turned towards Foxy, my mind whirring with ideas of repairs and possible upgrades. "What do you say?" I addressed the still animatronic as if he could hear me, "Shall we get you fixed up?" No answer. I deflate slightly, as if I actually expected one. "I'll be back tomorrow, hold out 'till then, kay?" I turned to leave when suddenly…

"Scarlett?"

I spun around at the growling, husky but yet oh, so familiar voice that had spoken my name, not daring to hope… "Foxy?" I breathed, "W-was that you?"

The old animatronic blinked, his eyes glowing faintly. "Aye, lass." He replied in his gruff tone. I couldn't help it, I flung myself at the robotic fox and pulled him into a hug. I felt a thick liquid seeping through my shirt from his chest, but I couldn't care less.

"You're okay, and you're still active! This is amazing, I thought I would never talk to you again!" I felt tears pricking the back of my eyes and a few rebellious ones rolling down my pale cheeks. "Are you alright?"

"I ain't the one cryin'" Foxy pointed out, "But, I've been better." I smile at that, he hasn't changed a bit, we fell into a comfortable silence, allowing me to simply relish his presence. "Were ye serious?" He asked suddenly, I hummed as I looked up at him. "'Bout fixin' me, do ya' really think ye can do it?" I looked at him, all business once again. Evaluating the damage and adding up costs and repairs. I look him in the eye and nod solemnly. It was then that I made up my mind. I will repair Foxy and I'll do it before Christmas.


	2. Getting to Work

**I know the games aren't in chronological order, I'm totally ignoring that for the sake of the plot.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own FNAF**

It was easy enough to convince my parents to let me have free reign, the poor sods are good people, but totally inadequate to care for a genius. They don't say anything but I can tell they're relieved that Lavender and Veronica turned out average, the twin sighs of relief when Lavender's first word was "mama" (rather than staying silent for almost for years before spouting the fully formed sentence of "It's not my fault you're an imbecile incapable of realising that I am learning the whole language before implementing it."), was a clear indicator of that. It was at that point I realised two things, the first being I would have to work very hard to find an intellectual peer, the second being the important realisation that my parents were intimidated by my intelligence. All I had to do was mention a project and a couple of thousand dollars found their way onto my credit card (I had a feeling they were afraid I would steal it if they didn't supply, which honestly, was not an unreasonable assumption).

Needless to say, the second the words "will need more money" slipped into my mutterings at the dinner table (a habit I developed as a child), the whole family instantly had their eyes on me. Uncomfortable with the attention I shifted a little in my seat, making a move to leave, my parents exchanged glances. I could literally quote the silent discussion taking place. A raised eyebrow from mother dear meant: "What do we do?" a slight inclination of my father's head replied: "Well, first off, we don't let her leave." As I sat once again, they both sighed, knowing I had once agin 'picked up' on their 'code' (as I said, not the best people to raise a genius, they really need to stop trying to outsmart me.)

Eventually, father broke the silence by asking, "Um, so you won't have enough money for what, sweetie?" I almost rolled my eyes at the primitive tactic, he was trying to establish a relationship by imitating my habit of deducing people's intentions without knowing them or what they wanted, (I had honed it to a science and it often unnerved people as it made me look like some sort of telepath.) I shook my head sadly, I should be used to it, I outsmarted them for the first time when I was two and graduated their high-school classes with flying colours before I was old enough to be a freshman, of corse they wouldn't think I would pick up on the elementary psychology they were trying to deploy.

"I want to build something." Was my brisk reply, I didn't bother with the silver-tongued approach at home, I didn't need to. "An animatronic, a big one. It'll take about two months if I hustle. I'll be out of the house a lot, so don't worry if I don't come home for a few days." Other parents would object, mine just blinked sadly and wondered why I had been born so different.

I headed to my room and locked the door behind me, I pulled up an internet tab and ordered what I would need, then paid the fees and grabbed a bag, I had research to do. With an afterthought, I yelled over my shoulder, "If a package gets delivered, sign for it, take it inside and _do not drop it!_" I don't even wait for the reply before I'm out the door.

**xX Line Break Xx**

I wandered over to Freddie Fazbear's and sat outside, thinking. So, I would fix Foxy, then what? I knew he wouldn't be used, so fixing him seemed pointless and a little selfish. Just then, a man with purple hair and a blue uniform strolled past me and opened the door with a pair of jangling keys. I was curious and before I could help myself, my instincts took over and I saw everything about him through minor details.

_[Thirty-five, lives alone, diagnosed with a mental disorder at childhood, possibly Asperger's more likely displays psychopathic tendencies. Little to no friends and family, but a therapist he visits twice a week that he doesn't like very much. Doesn't drink, doesn't do drugs, but he smokes. Never married, had a girlfriend recently but dumped her. He's a night guard here but he doesn't want to be here, could be because he gets bored, more likely because something in here makes him nervous. Worked here for a fair amount of time and had a goal in mind when he signed up, that goal has either been achieved or abandoned.]_

I grimaced, like I said, it makes me look like a psychic. He smiled at me before entering the building, it was kind enough, but sent shivers down my spine anyway. I'll be avoiding him.

**xX Line Break Xx**

The next day, I slipped into Freddy Fazbear's Pizzeria with a large bag slung over my back, I slid back into the cove and made my way over to the moth-eaten curtains. I was going to have to stay the night to get the majority of the first stages done anyway, so I was in no hurry. I adjusted the russet suit and moved it a little, giving me a view if the machinery inside, I sighed at the state of them, it was gonna be a long day.

**xX Line Break Xx**

Some time later I was still going strong, Foxy was lounging on his stomach with his eyes closed as I worked on his back, I had to tear the fabric off of his legs, leaving them bare and the new parts gleaming. I was torn from my work by soft footfalls. I frowned, the restaurant had closed long ago, it was easily midnight by now, so why were sounds coming from the hall? I prodded my mechanical charge gently and asked, "Foxy? Hey, Foxy? What's that?" He opened one eye lazily and muttered something.

"Hmm?" I inquired, not hearing him properly.

"'S probably Bonnie," He murmured quietly, "'e's always active firs' an' 'e's the only one who takes this hall." This perked my interest, so the others were active at night too… interesting. Suddenly, the padding grew louder, like the source was getting closer to the curtain. A cold wave of fear spread through me. I didn't know why, but a strange sense of foreboding was eating away at the pit of my stomach. A low, haunting chuckle filled the air and I had to stop myself from squeaking.

"That doesn't sound like Bonnie." I whispered fearfully, all to familiar with the purple rabbit's youthful, pre-pubescent tones. the laugh seemed to have caught Foxy's attention too as he looked up and cursed, in his own pirate like way of corse.

"Wha's Fazbear want with me?" he asked himself, I couldn't supply an answer. As the footfalls approached, I squeaked and backed up against the wall. Foxy was looking at me strangely and he turned to the curtain, snaking out and leaving me alone.

**xX Line Break Xx**

Foxy wound his way through the curtains and slid into the open. He didn't want to stay long, Scarlett was clearly intimidated by the fact that Freddie was here and the lass had seen enough as it was.

"Foxy?" the bear's smooth voice called from the darkness, "Where are you you silly canine?"

"'m 'ere." Foxy muttered, "What you want Fazbear?" Freddie sighed fondly at the fox's annoyance.

"No need to get riled up, I'm just worried. It's almost three and you haven't even poked your nose out yet. Are you okay? Are you having trouble moving?" Foxy sighed at the questions, his state of disrepair had been the subject of much discussion recently, the others offering up parts and asking him if he wanted things, treating him like some sort of cripple.

"'m fine. Not feelin' it tonight." Foxy grunted, hoping to ward the bear off, unfortunately, Freddie seemed to want to chat.

"Scarlett came by today, with her sisters." The older animatronic informed him, sighing softly. "She disappeared for a bit and didn't turn up until the end of the day. "I'm not sure where she went, but she looked as if she was heading in your direction." Foxy only huffed, thug on the inside he was nervous as a little kid on their first day of school, was the bear onto them? "I'm sure it was nothing though." Freddie continued, moving into the shadows, out of the line of sight of the security camera as the light blinked on. Foxy stepped forward to follow him and his new legs caught the light, the new metal shining in the hall lights. Freddie frowned, "Are those… new?" He asked slowly, "The repair guy hasn't come for weeks, but those look like they were installed really recently… and when I saw you three days ago your legs were rusty as hell and you could barely walk on them."

Foxy grimaced and stepped into the shadows with the bear who grabbed him gently but firmly by the shoulders and pulled the smaller animatronic so he had to face him. "What's going on Foxy? You're acting weird and you look really different. The suit on your legs has completely torn away, but you don't seem to mind, that, and you were talking to someone before I came in. Come on, I thought we were past the secrecy and lone burdens. What I did after Eighty-seven was the perfect example of what I can do when I don't know the whole story. I practically tore you apart and you didn't mean what you did, it was instinct."

Foxy sighed, evaluating his options. Freddie was right, he probably should tell the bear about what Scarlett was doing, but on the other hand, if he didn't approve, it was over and the girl would be in trouble if not downright danger. He wasn't sure of what to do. Both fortunately and unfortunately, Scarlett was a curious person and even fear wouldn't hold her back for long, as such, fate decided it wasn't his choice to make.

**xX Line Break Xx**

Freddie sighed, he wished Foxy wasn't such a lone wolf, fox… whatever… He never seemed willing to open up to him and the others and always needed that little push. He had a surprisingly low self-esteem for a pirate and was prone to keeping secrets and repressing information. Eighty seven had been awful. He had luged towards the blood coated fox before knowing the whole story. It was a minor miracle Foxy had survived and a real one that he had forgiven him. Needless to say, he was constantly trying to get Foxy to come out of his shell.

Just then, he saw the curtain moving and a pale face peeking out. It was a tentative but clear movement and he turned to it. It wasn't an endo, far to small and there are no suits with fur even close to that shade, so it was a person, a child. A child, at almost midnight, coming out of pirate's cove. He turned on Foxy. "What is this?" He asked accusingly. The child huffed indignantly and stepped from behind the curtain. It was Scarlett. Scarlett Moriarty, the child of Eighty-Seven as the others called her.

Foxy is stammering, trying to cover himself, Scarlett saves him the trouble.

"Isn't it obvious Fazbear? I'm returning the favour of Eighty-seven."


End file.
